


You and I Locked in the Gloom

by Silent_So_Long



Category: Marvel Avengers Movies RPF, Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: AO3 1 Million, M/M, Porn Battle, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-02-15
Updated: 2014-02-15
Packaged: 2018-01-12 14:31:47
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,654
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1188696
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Silent_So_Long/pseuds/Silent_So_Long
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tom and Chris are holed up in a hotel room while a storm rages outside.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You and I Locked in the Gloom

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Porn Battle XV (The Ides of Porn) and the following prompts: Actor RPF, Chris Hemsworth/Tom Hiddleston, comfortable, sweet, cold, candles, unexpected, 
> 
> Also, the title is taken from the song "Hotel Room" by Richard Hawley.

The wind whistled outside the hotel’s walls, and seemed almost to threaten to knock the whole building down with its sustained ferocity. Tom shivered slightly as he pulled one of the blankets from the bed closer about his body, and watched as Chris strode across the room, to part the curtains and stare out at the storm ridden night. 

“D’you think this’ll ever stop?” Chris asked, deep voice moving through the room and seeming to ensnare Tom in its warming embrace. 

Tom smiled despite himself; Chris’ accent always seemed to become more prominent when the other man was worried or a little tense. Chris currently was tense, whole body vibrating with the emotion as though every single piece of his body would break beneath the ferocity of it. Tom couldn’t help but think that Chris looked far more battered by the storm than the hotel itself did, and they both were sheltered from all but the noise of the elements by the brick building surrounding them.

“Well, I’m sure that the storm will blow itself out eventually,” Tom said, as confidently as he could, yet even he had his doubts. 

The storm had started some time that morning, and had made the trip to their latest press release perilous. Dangerous though it had been at the time, the storm had grown markedly worse, so that all but the hardest, or foolhardiest considering one’s opinion on the matter, ventured forth. 

Now the sun was dipping down towards the horizon beneath its blanket of heavy storm clouds; the day, already dark, was fading fast into storm tossed twilight. Chris had promised that he would take Tom out to a meal before meeting up with the rest of the Thor crew for the remainder of the evening. It was, after all, Tom’s birthday and they were celebrating as much, yet not a one of them had planned for the elements to ruin their plans with a nasty surprise. 

“I don’t think any one of us is fool enough to venture out tonight,” Tom observed, yet he found that he didn’t mind all that much.

While he’d been looking forward to an evening filled with laughter and good fun, plenty of hot food and even better alcohol, he also thought it would be nice to have a romantic evening in with just Chris. While the weather had put paid to one idea, it didn’t mean that they couldn’t partake in the other.

“Well, we can always do it another night, eh?” Chris asked, as a fresh volley of rain battered against the window in scattergun bursts of noise that sounded almost like bullets against the glass. 

“I suppose,” Tom said, lazily, as he closed his eyes momentarily and stifled a yawn.

Previously cold, he now was getting more than a little cosy and comfortable, and as such, sleepy. Chris turned away from the window at last and allowed the curtain to fall back into place; while it did little to keep the noise of the storm down, it did at least offer a little in the way of warmth. Tom heard Chris’ sudden chuckle and dragged his eyes open to smile tiredly at Chris.

“Of course, if you’re too tired for celebrating, I can always leave you alone,” Chris said, laughter warming his voice still further. 

“No, you stay, please,” Tom said, immediately, forcing his eyes open to stare fixedly at the other man in determination. “I’m awake.” 

Chris rumbled out his assent, before glancing about the room, hands in his pockets as though uncertain as to quite what to do next.

“So, what now? Do we order food? Go down to the hotel restaurant?” Chris asked, with an easy shrug as though he didn‘t mind either way.

“Room service,” Tom said, defiantly. “Definitely. I fancy a nice steak.” 

Chris nodded again, and strode across the room, closing the distance between himself and the telephone. A brief call downstairs and a double-check of Tom’s order ensured that they both would have their meal, before he settled beside Tom upon the bed. Chris dragged another blanket about himself, but unlike Tom, he didn’t drape himself comfortably within it; instead, he left the blanket loose about his shoulders, bright blue eyes tracking the room s though he could see the progress of the storm through the walls. The rain and the wind seemed exponentially louder and more ferocious in the time it had taken him to order their food. 

Tom nudged Chris with his shoulder and seemed about to speak; he never had the chance, however, for the lights dipped and dipped again, before flickering out completely. 

“Oh, that’s just wonderful,” Chris grumbled, from beside Tom, and Tom felt the bed moving as though Chris had stood unseen in the sudden darkness.

He felt the passage of Chris’ movements past him and the brief drag of the blanket against his legs in the darkness, before a loud curse and crash announced the collision of Chris’ body against something unknown yet undoubtedly breakable.

“Perhaps it wouldn’t be remiss if you were to remain upon the bed,” Tom pointed out, with a hint of amusement in his voice that he couldn’t stop. “What were you trying to do, anyway?” 

“I was trying to see if we were the only ones affected,” Chris said, and Tom heard the passage of his movements across the room.

He heard the curtain moving across the curtain rail again and a brief lightening against one end of the room. Although the parted curtains did little to throw much light through the window, it did offer Chris a better view of outside.

“The hotel’s out,” he said. “Same with the street lights. I think the whole street’s out.” 

“Well, at least we can take some solace in the fact that it isn’t just us,” Tom sighed, finally standing.

He tried to waddle across the room as best he could with the hindrance of the blanket still wrapped tightly around his body; unlike Chris, however, he managed to not knock into anything. He joined Chris at the window and they stared out into the wind tossed darkness of outside. They stood in silence, yet it seemed as though the electricity was not to return that night; the night remained dark and unforgiving, despite how long they stood staring down at the street below. Silence remained ticking and absolute between them until Tom turned away with a sigh, defeated. 

“We’d best sit down,” he said. “I think there’s little we can do here.” 

“There’s little we can do anywhere,” Chris grumbled as he allowed the curtains to finally fall back into place. “We won’t even get any dinner.” 

“I’m sure someone will make sure we’re fed at some point,” Tom said, confidently. “I do still have some emergency cake leftover from earlier.” 

Chris grumbled but didn’t complain outright; while they’d liberally gorged themselves on cake earlier in the day, it still was better than nothing at all and both men knew it. Tom settled himself upon the bed and kicked his shoes off, in preparation for curling up beneath the covers and retaining at least some body warmth for the indeterminate hours ahead. 

He could hear Chris moving about and the soft snick of the bathroom door clicking open, after much flailing about in the darkness from the other man. A brief few bright flares of light later and Chris had managed to light a few candles, transporting them easily into the main room.

“And lo, he said let there be light and we had some,” Chris said. 

“Close, but no cigar,“ Tom smiled, despite himself.

“Maybe not, but we have candles,” Chris said, insistently. “Cigars won’t do much in the way of light.” 

Tom mumbled out an exasperated sigh and was met with a grin from the other man. Tom couldn’t help but grin back, yet he remained silently watchful over Chris’ actions, all the same. The light seemed to play favourably against Chris’ face and caught within the other man’s eyes, turning them a deeper blue than usual, mysterious and star-kissed with little pin-pricks of candle-light. It also made the other man look younger somehow, the hollows and planes of his face smoothing out into soft lines, mouth eased out into a soft pout of concentration as he made an art of arranging the candles to optimise the light. Tom huffed out his amusement, attracting Chris’ attention at least.

“It’s fine,” Tom said, with a smile still in his voice and his eyes. “Come here, darling. You haven’t so much as given me a birthday kiss or a cuddle in some hours.” 

Chris tutted, feigning annoyance, yet still Tom saw that amused grin that made its way across the other man’s face all the same. The bed dipped and creaked beneath the added weight of the other man, before Tom felt the long lines of Chris’ body trying to burrow beneath his blanket. He opened it up a little for him, wrapped and tucked it around him as best as he could given the limited amount of space left between them, before he felt the first soft press of Chris’ mouth against his own. Tom closed his eyes, and responded, mourning each loss of Chris’ lips and rejoicing when they returned mere seconds later; Chris’ hand was a familiar weight against his hip, radiating warmth from his palm through Tom’s clothing. 

Chris always seemed to run hotter than most people Tom knew; Tom often joked that Chris was his own personal radiator at times, to which Chris always fondly complained at being treated like a commodity or a possession instead of a partner. Tom always laughed and gave him a conciliatory kiss every time, which he suspected was the real reason why Chris complained, just to receive an extra piece of affection. 

“You’re thinking too much, mate,” Chris grumbled against his lips as he broke into Tom’s thoughts.

“Well, at least I was thinking of you,“ Tom murmured back, looking at Chris at close range, even though he could see little more than a mass of shadows overtaking the other man’s face. 

“Oh? About how much of a crap kisser I am, or something?“ Chris asked, and there seemed to be genuine hesitancy in his voice at that. 

“No,” Tom replied, immediately. “You know I enjoy your kisses, but I certainly would enjoy you doing something more to me than that.” 

“Fair do, but you didn’t answer my question,” Chris said, despite his sudden warm rill of laughter. 

“No, but I suppose it is quite hard to quantify quite what I was thinking of, without potentially sounding quite stupid,” Tom said. 

“If I knew what even half of that meant, I’d probably agree,” Chris said, and there was that faint note of teasing back in the other man’s voice again.

“Don’t sell yourself short, Chris,” Tom groaned. “I was just thinking of Australian radiators.” 

“Not the bloody radiator thing again,” Chris groaned, and there came the sound of his head hitting against the pillow, his movements making the candles gutter in the light breeze. “I swear that’s the only reason you go out with me.” 

“That’s not true and you know it,” Tom said, and he couldn’t help but notice the slight edge to his tone, as though Chris had truly hit a nerve. 

Sometimes, Tom couldn’t always tell whether the other man truly was serious when he doubted his own status in Tom’s life or whether that was just part of Chris’ way, disarmingly unable to truly accept another person’s love outright. 

“I love you because of you, Chris, and you know it,” Tom continued, with that same hint of grievance in his tone.

“Yeah? First time you’ve ever said that,” Chris said, and there was a hushed quality to his tone that Tom had never heard before. 

“Doesn’t mean to say that I didn’t mean it before,” Tom said.

“How can you mean it before if you've never - you know what? I can’t even begin to figure that one out,” Chris said, and there was genuine amusement in his voice “You English men are all bloody crazy, I swear.” 

“No, just the best ones are,” Tom said. “Me and Hannibal Lecter.” 

“Not a good comparison, mate,” Chris immediately said. “I swear you’re deliberately trying to put me off my game here.” 

“With Hannibal Lecter? At least he got a meal of sorts and a nice Chianti. More than we’ll get tonight,” Tom said.

“Please stop, Tom,” Chris said, voice pitched halfway between laughter and horror. “I don’t wanna be thinking about eating liver right now. You are trying to put me off my game.” 

“That’s it, I swear. No more liver jokes,” Tom said, laughing himself.

Chris huffed out a pleased note, before falling silent. Tom watched him in the uncertain light of the candles, at the way the warm glow washed against Chris’ profile. He slid one hand against Chris’ clothed chest then, and described circles into the other man’s flesh with inquisitive fingers; Chris soon shivered beneath his ministrations and turned to face him again. His mouth found Tom’s easily in the uncertain light, danced against his for a moment, before his hand trailed down between them easily. 

Tom felt Chris’ fingers trailing their way over Tom‘s buttons, until his shirt was awkwardly peeled away, trousers soon flipped loose with his belt hanging awkwardly around his waist.

“I can’t do anything more, mate until you help me,” Chris panted out and even his voice sounded wrecked then.

Tom mumbled out something that was almost a reply, shedding first the blanket as he stood, before he shed the rest of the his clothing easily. He burrowed beneath the blankets again, as Chris struggled out of his own clothing with less finesse than Tom himself had shown. 

Soon, they lay together again, hands caressing every inch of bare skin they could reach, mouths meeting and parting easily. Tom was soon manoeuvred onto his back, legs spread wide by Chris; Tom moaned slightly and arched up into Chris’ seeking touch as the other man explored his body as though it was fresh all over again. 

In time, Chris retrieved the lube from the bedside cabinet, easily slicking his fingers up and pressing them against Tom’s entrance. Tom hissed at the sudden intrusion, soon relaxing as Chris waited for him to adjust. Tom arched up into Chris’ touch as the other man slowly prepared him, every movement familiar and planned, methodical even. Soon Chris’ weight was upon him and the other man was easing into him eagerly, hips finally aligning before Tom’s body arched up into Chris’ with a muffled cry.

Chris began to thrust slowly, soft murmurs of encouragement leaking past his lips as Tom lost himself to every movement. Chris felt Tom stroking himself between them, hand moving rapidly over his cock until the other man came, release hot and sticky between them. Chris followed Tom down into his own sated abyss soon after, Tom’s name a desperate groan in the darkness that was swallowed by the sounds of the storm outside. He rode the last of his climax until he was spent, before he eased away, to tuck himself quietly beside Tom. 

Neither spoke and neither needed to; both were content to remain motionless, skin warmed by each other’s closeness and their activities, until, finally the electricity flickered into bright white life again. Tom winced at the stabbing intrusion upon his light-starved eyes, as Chris swore beside him and shielded his eyes from the light. 

“Well, at least we can have a meal, if nothing else,” Tom observed, once Chris’ swearing fit had abated. 

Chris, at least, had to agree, despite the fact that Tom followed his statement with a passable impression of Hannibal Lecter to sweeten the deal. Tom was still laughing when Chris left him a few minutes later to visit the bathroom.


End file.
